As far as I could tell she was part of the furniture, the infrastructure of the place. Ancient she seemed then – probably no more than 45 years old, to my reckoning from now. Although, the few wisps of soft hair that were visible beneath her tight, starched cap were...
'Lady in Yellow' by Wendi Bradshaw For Liz Hicklin, Poet and Writer They met within the cool bright dawn of youth, souls aligned, attracted. The rich history of literary words and history, literally, lyrically drew lover to muse. Even then portentous symbols divined...
Imagine here a map: made of two sleeping cats. Napping, resting, cleaning up their act. (A gentle paws here please, for preliminary dramatic effect) Very few of all cat loving folk owned by cats, are aware of the fact that the soul purpose of the cat is to act as...
I like pens. Fountain pens. Sleek and shapely, made from a range of materials, contemporary and curvy, or traditionally classic and slipstream smooth. When my new one arrived, I was keen to try it out. I picked up a sheet of paper from the recycle stack and started...
Around this place time is in flux. Like the thoughtful quiver of a compass needle it can move slowly, long damp days of stilling sea mist. To swing and spin back in sudden bursts of purpose, quick vibrant snap flashes of memory, live and clear. Until again the west...
Charlie allows the book she is reading to fall into her lap, kicks her legs back and forth a few times before tucking them under her body and leaning back into the cushions to enjoy the feel of her pod chair, swaying in the warm, early evening breeze. Listening...
'I can’t believe you got a job. Jemima moans, as she swipes through her Instagram feed whilst lounging, lazily on Lizzie’s bed. ‘You’re gonna miss most of summer.’ ‘I need the money.’ Lizzie replies, pulling a crisp, white shirt over her head. ‘You know how hard the...
‘Seriously, Scott. You’re acting as though I’m asking you to go to Mars for a month. It’s the bloody Mornington Peninsula. The playground of Melbourne’s rich and famous, café’s on every corner, beautiful beaches, wineries and loads of breweries. Remember the Bass and...
Despite feeling the February sun’s rays burning the back of her neck, making Shani wish she’d taken the time to apply sunscreen all the way round, she gently tucks a woollen blanket across her father’s legs. Shani, who was christened Sharon but, for reasons she...
‘Come on, Margaret,’ Joan said. ‘Just walk out with this group.’ With Joan at her heels, Margaret obeyed and shuffled out with the aid of her walker. The two elderly friends tottered down the footpath and turned into the main street of Hastings. ‘Let’s look in the...
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